


Camaraderie

by paperstorm



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ashton's POV, Group Sex, Luke/Michael are in an Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, OT4, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ashton is really, really happy when Luke and Michael finally stop being dumb and get together for real. But there’s a thing, because nothing like this ever fits perfectly into the box it came in, and the thing is this. They have sex, like, a lot. Like all the time. At first, all four of them were super awkward about it. And then Luke and Michael got too comfortable. They stopped being quiet, they stopped saving it for hotel rooms. And now it’s morphed into a situation.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to Lucifer this was supposed to be a quick, smutty one-shot. And then it mutated into ... whatever this is. And it grew feelings and plot somewhere along the way. I don't know.

Ashton is really, really happy when Luke and Michael finally stop being dumb and get together for real. He honestly is. They’ve been dancing around each other for years, trapped in one of those will-they-won’t-they sitcom tropes that’s cute for about five minutes and then gets annoying really quick once everyone in the world figures out they should be together except for the two people involved. Ashton was tired of it, tired of having to bite his tongue, of watching them lust after each other, watching them stare dreamily at the sides of each other’s faces and then look away when heads were turned. It was exhausting. Ashton had _just fucking kiss him already!_ on the tip of his tongue seven or eight times a day pretty much since he met them, and when they finally did it was like he could let out the breath he’d been holding for two damn years.  
  
They’re just stupid cute about it, too. Michael is a  _boyfriend_ , which Ashton can’t say he was expecting. He takes care of Luke. Just little things because Luke is a grown-up, sort of, and can take care of himself, mostly. Michael rubs his shoulders at the end of a long day, tells him how amazing he’s gonna be before a show and how amazing he was after it, hugs him when he’s stressed because they’re busy and stretched too thin, calms him with kisses when he gets homesick. Calum tends to roll his eyes at them, but Ashton finds it sweet.  
  
So he really is happy for them. That’s the absolute truth. But there’s a thing, because nothing like this ever fits perfectly into the box it came in, and the thing is this. They have sex, like, a lot. Like all the time. It’s been through three stages and finally landed in a place where it’s becoming a problem. First, all four of them were super awkward about it. Luke and Michael were embarrassed, Calum and Ashton were uncomfortable – not about gender or anything but just because it leaves an uneasy feeling in everyone’s stomachs to know half their band is fucking each other and they all know it’s happening but can’t really talk about it. Then they all got used to the new paradigm a little, and that was the second phase, in which Luke and Michael were still self-conscious enough to be discreet but they were all better at making jokes; at knowing it was going on but not being weird about it. And then Luke and Michael got  _too_  comfortable. They stopped being quiet, they stopped saving it for hotel rooms. And now it’s morphed into a situation.  
  
They had to ban sex on the tour bus a few weeks ago. That was a conversation Ashton really never wanted to have, but they didn’t have a choice anymore. Ashton would be attempting to sleep and there were  _noises_  coming from one of their bunks and it was equal parts uncomfortable and really,  _concerningly_  hot, and Ashton was never going to sleep again if his two annoying, smitten bandmates didn’t stop giving him confusing boners.  
  
Luke and Michael at least had the decency to be embarrassed about it and sorry and promise never to do it again, at least on the bus. Which was an improvement, but only marginally because there are a lot of non-bus places in the world where they can still be alone together but well within earshot of Ashton and Calum.  
  
“It’s like porn,” Calum grumbles, rubbing his hands over his face. “It’s like someone cursed me with a gay porn loop that never turns off in my head. I hear them even when they’re  _not_  doing it.”  
  
Ashton presses his lips together and tries to tune it out. It doesn’t work. It never works.  
  
They’re in LA, for a few days, back at the house they haven’t really lived in since they’ve been touring. There’s a whole  _floor_ between the two subsections of the band and Ashton can  _still_  hear them. Luke and Michael are either both heroically good at sex or this is some kind of long-term prank they’re pulling on Ashton and Calum. Knowing Michael, Ashton would be stupid to put the latter past them.  
  
“I would, like, sell my grandmother to be getting laid an  _eighth_ of how often they are,” Ashton complains.  
  
“Where do they even find the energy?” Calum asks. “Seriously. Most days I’m too tired to halfheartedly tug myself off in the shower, and they’re up there like Olympic athletes.”  
  
Ashton drops his head down onto the table and groans, at the same time as someone – probably Luke, he’s the noisier one and Ashton  _really_ fucking wishes that was a piece of information he didn’t own – groans even louder from the second floor. “Can we not talk about this?”  
  
“What are we supposed to do, just sit here and play FIFA and pretend there isn’t a gay rodeo going on right above our heads?”  
  
Ashton giggles unexpectedly, and then so does Calum.  
  
“You know.” Calum shrugs. “Because, riding.”  
  
“No, I got it, sophisticated as it was.” Ashton shakes his head and laughs again.  
  
There’s a loud thump from upstairs, and the smile slips off Ashton’s face.  
  
“Fuck, they’re gonna break … everything. The bed, the wall, Luke’s ass.”  
  
“Can an ass break?” Ashton asks, scrunching up his nose.  
  
“I don’t know. Probably.”  
  
“Wait, do you know Luke bottoms?”  
  
“No, I don’t. And you were right, before. Let’s not talk about it.”  
  
Calum makes himself a sandwich and Ashton plays absently on his phone, and their resolve to pretend nothing is happening lasts for about five minutes before Calum loses it.  
  
“Fuck this,” he mutters mutinously, slamming his plate down on the table and storming out of the room.  
  
“What are you doing?” Ashton calls after him.  
  
“I’m gonna pour a bucket of water on them because I’m not currently in possession of a bucket of acid,” Calum replies, over his shoulder as he stomps up the stairs.  
  
Ashton closes his eyes and rests his head in his hands. It’s all just very, very bad. He loves Luke and Michael, and he’s happy they found each other, and that makes this complicated.  
  
“Hey!” Calum’s voice sounds from the floor above, followed by loud pounding on a door. “Would you keep it the fuck down in there?”  
  
Ashton hears a voice answer, but can’t make out what’s being said.  
  
“You think Ash and I like sitting downstairs listening to you two? Learn how to bite a fuckin’ pillow or we’re banning sex in the house too!”  
  
His footsteps start retreating immediately, not waiting for another response, and there he’s back downstairs, rolling his eyes at Ashton.  
  
“We’re living with rabbits,” he says.  
  
It is quieter now, though. “At least they listened to you.”  
  
“For now, anyway.” Calum gives himself a little shake. “It’s like … it  _gets_  to me, that’s the worst part of this. You know?”  
  
Ashton does know, and it makes him squirm uncomfortably to consider talking about it, but it’s always easy to be honest with Calum. “Yeah. It’s super weird ‘cause it’s  _them_ , but it’s still sex. So it’s still … y’know. Distracting.”  
  
Calum shakes his head and rubs his hands through his hair. “I think I need to go for a walk.”  
  
“Can I come? Or would that be weird?”  
  
Calum shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. “Nah. Two dudes can take a walk to get rid of unwanted wood together. Totally not gay.”  
  
“I feel like if you have to say that, it kinda is.”  
  
“ _Some_  homo, then. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. C’mon, I don’t wanna be here for a while.”  
  
Ashton doesn’t either, so he slips a pair of shoes on and grabs a sweatshirt and follows Calum outside.  
  
*           *           *  
  
They don’t see Luke or Michael again for the rest of the night – don’t hear them, either, which Ashton is grateful for. It leaves him and Calum to hang out and cook supper for themselves and mess around on guitars a little, and pretend – for the most part – that the events of earlier didn’t happen.  
  
Early the next morning, before anyone else is awake, Luke finds Ashton in the kitchen. Ashton just wakes up really early sometimes, for no real reason, and usually when that happens he’s alone for a while before the others surface. Luke blushes an impressively deep scarlet when their eyes connect across the room – he probably wasn’t expecting Ashton to be here.  
  
“Hi,” he mumbles.  
  
Ashton smiles a little. It’s kind of cute. “Morning tiger,” he teases.  
  
“Shut up.” Luke sits on a stool and folds his hands in front of him, staring down at them instead of at Ashton. “Why are you up this early?”  
  
“Just woke up. I don’t know. You?”  
  
“Same.”  
  
“Not that comfortable to sleep in a bed covered in squiz?” Ashton asks, slipping back into the big-brother-little-brother dynamic he’s always had with Luke. Brothers give each other a hard time, Ashton knows that from being one.  
  
“Stop,” Luke all-out whines, leaning forward to rest his forehead on his hands.  
  
“Oh, so it’s cool for you and Michael to subject us to it but I’m not allowed to say anything?” Ashton’s joking, mostly, but Luke groans unhappily.  
  
“I’m sorry. We’re dicks, I didn’t … realize. It was so …”  
  
“Loud?” Ashton supplies, sort of enjoying watching Luke squirm. The tiny piece of him that isn’t a very nice person thinks Luke had this coming. Michael has it coming even more, probably, because no matter what’s happened, things that are Michael-and-someone’s fault are always Michael’s fault just a little more. Ashton makes a mental note to bug him about it later. He’ll have to step it up, though. Michael doesn’t embarrass as easily as Luke does.  
  
“Sorry,” Luke says again. “We won’t … we’ll try. To be quieter.”  
  
“That would be cool.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” He sounds miserable, and then Ashton feels bad.  
  
“It’s okay.” He rubs between Luke’s shoulder blades, and wants to make him smile. “Michael must be, uh … good at it.”  
  
Luke lifts his head up and fidgets. He laughs a little, but it sounds self-conscious. “Um. You don’t wanna hear about it.”  
  
“Not if you’re gonna get graphic or something. But you’re my bro, you can say  _I really like fucking Michael_  and I’m not gonna, like, melt.”  
  
“Oh.” Luke shifts in his chair again and picks at a hangnail. He can’t sit still. It’s endearing, and it makes Ashton feel better about the fact that he’s not entirely comfortable talking about this either. He  _wants_ to be, because sometimes he really worries that his discomfort is born from the fact that Luke and Michael are both male, and Ashton doesn’t  _think_  that’s the reason but he would hate himself if it were.  
  
“So? It’s … goin’ well?”  
  
Luke is still fidgety, but he smiles too. “Yeah,” he says, softly. “It’s, um. It’s good. Really good. Like, not  _it_. All of it, I mean. But it, too.”  
  
Ashton laughs. “I think I need a calculator for that sentence.”  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
“Mostly.” Ashton gets up and heads for the coffee pot. He looks at Luke over his shoulder, and Luke nods, so he pours in enough water for both of them. “So Mikey’s got some moves, then. He’s such a goof, I can  _not_  imagine him being smooth.”  
  
“He … yeah. He’s good. But it’s like … when you care about someone, you know? It’s better.”  
  
“Awww,” Michael’s voice coos exaggeratedly from the doorway.  
  
“How long have you been standing there?” Luke squawks.  
  
“Long enough to hear you say I’m awesome in the sack and you  _love_  me,” Michael teases.  
  
“Technically, he didn’t say either of those things,” Ashton points out.  
  
“ _Technically_ , fuck you,” Michael returns. He enters the room and cuddles up behind Luke, wrapping his arms around Luke’s waist and nuzzling into the side of his face. “Hi.”  
  
Luke grins and reaches behind himself, tangling his fingers in Michael’s hair.  
  
Ashton almost rolls his eyes. “Damn it, you guys are so cute it’s hard to stay mad at you.”  
  
“Sorry about yesterday,” Michael says, and at least has the decency to sound like he actually means it. “We’ll, uh. Tone it down.”  
  
“At least when we’re in the same house, would be nice.” Ashton adds a bit more water to the coffee maker so there’s enough for Michael too. “We don’t care if you fuck. We just don’t need to hear it.”  
  
Michael laughs quietly. “Okay. Can you blame me, though? He’s fuckable.”  
  
“Hey,” Luke complains. “That’s not exactly a compliment.”  
  
“Sure it is.” Michael tugs at Luke’s waist until he turns around on the stool so they’re facing each other, and then he folds Luke up in a hug – Luke gets his arms around Michael’s neck and clings to him like they haven’t seen each other in a year.  
  
It’s just sweet enough that the last of Ashton’s annoyance fades away. He believes that they’re both sorry, too, so maybe everything has fixed itself.  
  
*           *           *  
  
It didn’t. Luke and Michael find or buy or steal themselves some chill for one full day, and then they all decide to get drunk together because they have a rare night off at their house, and once alcohol hits bloodstreams it all goes straight to hell. Michael has  _two drinks_  and he’s pressed up against Luke on the couch, slobbering all over his neck in a way that probably isn’t even pleasant. Luke is nicer about it, smiling apologetically at Calum and Ashton and gently trying to push Michael away, and Michael controls himself for a while but it never lasts long until he forgets that he’s supposed to keep his hands to himself.  
  
Mostly, Ashton’s able to ignore it, and he has a good time. They’ve been so busy lately, it isn’t often they get moments like this, when it’s just the four of them and laughter. Ashton misses it. He thinks they need to start scheduling band time that doesn’t include working. The alcohol mellows him and makes everything sparkly and every joke funnier, and Ashton’s face hurts from smiling so much after only an hour. At one point Luke gets up and starts imitating Calum’s mum dancing at a show, and Ashton laughs so hard he can’t breathe.  
  
Way too many drinks later, Ashton is sitting on the floor between the couch at the coffee table, his head tipped back on the cushions and his eyes closed, blood moving slow through his veins and his head spinning just a little in a really pleasant way. Calum is sitting next to him, close enough that Ashton can feel the heat from his body. He’s telling some story that Ashton is probably supposed to be paying attention to, but he’s relaxed and floating and content to just exist here, surrounded by his friends.  
  
“Unbelievable,” Calum mutters suddenly, and Ashton looks at him, frowning in question. Calum points across the room, and Ashton turns his head and isn’t sure how he managed not to notice Luke and Michael have started making out again.  
  
“Dude, we’re  _right_  here,” Ashton says. He’s seen them kiss. He doesn’t care about that. But this is more, this is drunken foreplay; Michael reclined against the arm of the other couch and Luke straddled in his lap, lips and tongues sliding together, Michael’s hands up the back of Luke’s shirt. Luke pushes his hips down into Michael’s, grinding through layers of skin-tight denim. They both ignore Ashton completely.  
  
“ _One_  night without this crap, is that really too much to ask?” Calum says, mostly to Ashton.  
  
Ashton raises his voice this time. “Hey fuck-faces, at least take that shit upstairs.” He picks up a pillow and hurls it at them. It bounces off Luke’s back and falls to the floor with a soft thump.  
  
“Okay,” Michael says, but then Luke doesn’t get off him so they don’t stop kissing.  
  
“Or you know what? How about you don’t,” Calum says, a definite slur to his words, and Ashton’s a little worried this is about to turn into a fight until Calum continues. “How about you do it, right here.”  
  
Ashton frowns and isn’t positive he heard that correctly, because it doesn’t make any sense.  
  
Luke and Michael finally stop, both their heads swiveling toward Calum. He has their attention now – they’re not sure they heard right either. So it isn’t just Ashton.  
  
“Like, in front of you?” Michael asks, his eyebrows raised.  
  
“Why the hell not?”  
  
“Um, because we’re not a fucking live show?”  
  
“You’re not?” Calum says loudly, getting to his feet and raising his eyebrows too, spreading his arms out to the sides. “Really? ‘Cause from where I’ve been standing for the last six months, yeah you fuckin’ are! Do you have any concept of how loud you are lately? We can hear  _everything_. You know that, right? You might as well round this bitch out and give us the visual to go along with it!”  
  
Luke blushes and hides his face against Michael’s neck.  
  
“Fuck you,” Michael grumbles, no real heat to it. He feels badly, Ashton can tell, but still thinks he should be cantankerous about it because he’s Michael.  
  
“Ash and I can’t live like this anymore! You two are always going at it, it’s like living with a TV that follows you around everywhere you go playing porn on an endless cycle!” Calum barrels on, getting upset. Ashton’s heart races. “How are you ever supposed to get anything done when you have half a boner all the damn time?”  
  
“I thought you were straight,” Michael points out obnoxiously, and that pisses Ashton off too because it’s such an obvious taunt and it’s so  _not_  the point, and Michael knows it.  
  
“We are! It doesn’t fucking matter!” Calum yells. “It doesn’t matter that we’re straight and you’re like our brothers, there’s still loud sex being had in the periphery of our fucking auditory range, so yeah, it turns the engine on, except  _we_  don’t have someone to blow our load inside seven times a day!”  
  
“Sorry. We’ll stop,” Luke mumbles, pleading, his words muffled against Michael’s skin.  
  
“No, don’t! I don’t want you to stop. I want you to do it, right here. And I want to watch and I want to jerk off to it and then I want to move to freakin’ Siberia so I never have to see any of you again because I can’t  _believe_  I just said that out loud.”  
  
Ashton can’t believe it either. He’d be lying if he said he’s never gotten riled up listening to Luke and Michael but he never thought of  _that_  as some kind of solution. Calum and Michael stare at each other for almost a full minute, tension-thick silence stealing all the oxygen from the room, both challenging each other with their eyes like bulls about to charge. Ashton looks back and forth between them and his heart thuds against his ribcage. He isn’t even close to drunk enough for this. He’s like seventy miles from drunk enough for this. Probably because there isn’t enough alcohol on the planet.  
  
Michael backs down first, but then not really because he breaks eye-contact in favor of nudging Luke’s head up so he can look at him instead. They have an entire conversation with just their eyes, somehow paragraphs being spoken wordlessly in the inches between their faces, and then finally Luke shrugs a little. He looks embarrassed, but he isn’t saying no, and holy _fuck_  Ashton realizes a second too late that  _Luke isn’t saying no_.  
  
Michael looks back at Calum. “We’re game,” he says, his voice quiet but daring. Daring Calum to change his mind and back out.  
  
Calum’s jaw sets and it’s like he wants to say he was kidding, brush it off as alcohol-induced, but the gauntlet has been thrown and Calum is the most stubborn out of all of them, even Michael. It’s the athlete in him, probably – pulling out of a dare is an insult to his manhood. He grins, cocky and defiant, and says, “Okay. Good.”  
  
Ashton blinks a few times and opens his mouth, trying and failing to get words out. His brain is skipping like a record on  _no_ and  _this isn’t happening_  but it  _is_  happening. Luke and Michael are kissing again, and Ashton has shifted officially into panic mode, but his internal protests aren’t stopping anything from carrying on whether or not he’s on board.  
  
“Let’s go upstairs,” Calum says, surprisingly calm, and how the fuck he is so calm when Ashton’s coming quickly undone and fully desperate for an escape pod to take him  _anywhere_.  
  
Luke agrees, climbing off of Michael and then pulling him to his feet as well. Calum heads for the stairs, and Luke and Michael follow him, and Ashton is sure he just stays where he is, sits on the couch and watches the three of them leave the room, but then his feet are climbing stairs and he doesn’t know how he got here. He just trails along after them mindlessly, he doesn’t even  _want_  this but he’s still doing it, still following them as they make their way like a line of ants into Luke’s bedroom. He’s always following them. He always has, since the purple shirt they all like to joke about, even three years later.  
  
Ashton doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he sits on the edge of the bed. His heart is still racing, and his head is swimming and it’s only partly because of the alcohol. The others are drunker than him, probably. No, definitely. They have to be. Otherwise they wouldn’t be so casual about this. Luke and Michael are kissing again, standing this time, arms wrapped around each other like they don’t remember how to let go. Calum’s watching them, obvious hunger in his dark eyes, as Michael pushes Luke’s shirt up and over his head and then attacks his neck.  
  
“Are we seriously doing this,” Ashton asks, mostly to himself, blowing out a breath and rubbing his hands down his own thighs.  
  
“You don’t have to,” Calum tells him.  
  
“Have you thought about it before?”  
  
Calum shrugs a little and won’t make eye contact. “Maybe. I guess. They’re … you know.” He gestures at Luke and Michael, who aren’t paying attention to anything but each other. “Hot.”  
  
Ashton can’t really disagree with that. They kiss like they’ll die if they stop, like they need each other’s tongue in their mouth to survive, like it’s their air. It’s weird because they’re Ashton’s friends, his brothers, and he isn’t used to seeing them like this. He doesn’t consider them sexual beings because he’s never had a reason to before. It’s like they’re outside their own context right now, existing in an alternate universe as alternate versions of themselves that Ashton’s never met. When he looks at them, at the way Luke smiles while he kisses, the way Michael touches Luke’s skin, after a moment he can start to see them as two people who want each other and not his dorky, loud, uncoordinated bandmates. Suddenly, yeah, it is hot.  
  
Ashton’s body is on board with this, even if his brain hasn’t fully caught up yet. Blood rushes south as he watches them, and Ashton unconsciously lifts a hand up and rubs at the growing bulge in his jeans, readjusting where there isn’t as much room as there was before.  
  
“Should we, um. Be on the bed?” Calum asks. “Or … how do you wanna …?”  
  
Ashton cringes. It’s still awkward. “Can we turn the lights off or something? Or at least down?”  
  
Luke pulls away from Michael and heads toward the light switch to dim them, and Michael jogs after him and plasters himself to Luke’s back, wrapping his arms around Luke’s waist and kissing the back of his neck. Luke giggles. “I was comin’ right back, babe.”  
  
“Don’t wanna not be touching you right now, even for a second,” Michael tells him.  
  
“Oh my  _God,_  you guys are gonna make me puke rainbows,” Calum complains.  
  
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to do this,” Michael reminds him. “Which, by the way, makes you a little bit gay. I hope you’re okay with that.”  
  
“Everyone is a little bit gay,” Calum says with a shrug. He drops down onto the bed next to Ashton.  
  
“I’m not!” Ashton protests, his voice coming out an entirely unmanly squeak.  
  
Michael grins at him and nods at his lower half. “Mini-you doesn’t agree.”  
  
Ashton feels his face heat in a flush, and he looks away. “Shut up.”  
  
Michael probably isn’t wrong, though. So fine. Who cares. It’s so far down on the list of things that matter right now, it barely registers.  
  
“Who, um. Who does the fucking?” Calum asks. His cheeks redden just a little, and Ashton feels marginally better knowing he isn’t the only one out of his element right now. The way Calum was acting before, Ashton was starting to wonder if maybe Calum had done this before with Michael and Luke, maybe back when they were in school before Ashton was one of them. If they’ve been up to it in secret all along, even. Like maybe this is just something they all  _do_ , and Ashton was never invited to be part of it.  
  
“We take turns,” Michael answers, as he pulls his own shirt over his head, and then smiles when Luke dips his head down to kiss along Michael’s collarbone.  
  
“So who’s turn is it, then?”  
  
“Mine,” says Luke. “Unless you wanna.”  
  
Calum goes understandably flustered. “I – no, I wasn’t …”  
  
Luke smiles reassuringly at him. “I was kidding, Cal.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Are you guys gonna keep your clothes on?” Michael eyes them, and then Ashton feels stupid for not thinking of that. He has no experience with things like this, he doesn’t know how it’s supposed to go.  
  
They all strip individually and climb onto the bed – there’s no order or planning, and Luke ends up in the middle with Michael on his hands and knees above, still kissing, and Calum and Ashton on either side. Ashton watches them pushing their tongues into each other’s mouths, Luke’s fingers roaming through Michael’s hair. His hand travels down his own body, brushing over the spots where he’d be ticklish if someone else were touching him; cupping himself where he’s already hard and they’ve barely started. It’s the exhilaration of knowing they probably shouldn’t be doing this, but are anyway. Ashton didn’t know this about himself until just now, that he gets off on the thrill of doing something wrong.  
  
He can’t really see Calum from his position on the bed, the two-headed make-out machine that is Luke and Michael blocking his view, and that’s the only thing Ashton doesn’t like. It would be reassuring to be able to see Calum’s face and know he isn’t alone in being nervous and excited and outside his comfort zone.  
  
“So are we just gonna fuck right here while you guys watch?” Michael asks. Not waiting for an answer, he reaches beneath his own body and touches Luke’s. Ashton tilts his head to see, watches Michael wrap pale, tattooed fingers around Luke’s cock and start stroking slowly. Ashton has seen every one of them fully naked before, but never like this. Never hard, never in an even remotely sexual context. Luke and Michael are both really, really nice to look at, Ashton realizes. Luke is so skinny; peachy skin stretched taut over the faint outline of developing muscle. Michael is snow-white and a little softer, but gorgeous in his own way. His body suits him. It’s just yet another way that Michael’s never followed anyone’s rules but his own.  
  
“I don’t know,” Calum responds, belatedly. “I guess? What do you want?”  
  
“This was your idea,” Michael points out.  
  
“Doesn’t mean I’ve actually thought it through.”  
  
Ashton laughs a little, and so does Luke.  
  
“It’s okay, Calum,” Luke says, determined to make everyone comfortable, and it’s very  _him_. Then Michael does something that makes Luke moan softly, and Ashton’s vison clouds over and all other thoughts slingshot out of his brain.  
  
Calum never actually answered Michael’s question, but Michael takes the decision out of his hands. He kisses slowly down Luke’s chest, licking at his skin as he moves. Luke’s legs fall a little further apart to make room for Michael to kneel between them, his right knee bumping into Ashton’s leg. Ashton’s skin tingles at the contact, and then he wants more so he moves in just a little closer so his whole thigh and upper arm are touching Luke’s. It feels good, to touch someone else. It anchors him to the moment.  
  
Ashton twists his wrist around the head of his cock. It’s been a while since he’s done this even just by himself, they’ve been so busy lately. The warmth and pressure from the squeeze of his own fingers feels way too good, and combined with everything else, Ashton has to force himself to breathe in order to keep it together. Michael produces a bottle of what looks like lube, Ashton doesn’t know from where, and is pouring it over his fingers and pushing one into Luke’s body before Ashton’s brain has a chance to wrap itself around what’s going to happen – what’s now happen _ing_. He blinks, trying to process it, his heartbeat speeding up again and his head swimming.  
  
Luke sighs and pushes back on Michael’s finger, so Michael goes back in with two, and it’s so hot Ashton might be dying. This might be what dying feels like.  
  
“Do you like it?” Calum asks quietly. He sounds captivated – Ashton certainly is.  
  
“Feels really good,” Luke says, the final word dissolving on a moan as Michael starts rubbing at Luke’s cock with his free hand. “Have you never …?”  
  
“I’m not gay,” Calum reminds him.  
  
Luke shakes his head. “I mean to yourself.”  
  
“Oh,” Calum says, and then repeats it like something just dawned on him. “ _Oh_.”  
  
It takes Ashton’s foggy, arousal-soaked brain a moment to catch up, and then when he does, his eyes widen.  _Luke_  does it to himself. Michael probably does too. They probably both did  _before_  they started doing it with each other. Ashton’s mind wanders back to nights of shared hotel rooms and tour busses, of jerking off under the cover of blankets while his temporary roommate did the same, both pretending they couldn’t hear the other. Ashton’s heard all three of them do it, at one point or another. Living on top of each other like they do, it’s just something they tacitly agree to let go un-talked about. Ashton is a little thunderstruck at idea that the sounds he heard from the bunk or bed next to his were more than just a hand on a dick when Luke or Michael was the occupant. He pictures Luke doing it, sort of without meaning to, and then moans uncontrollably.  
  
“Whatever you just did, do it again,” Michael tells him. “That noise was hot.”  
  
Ashton’s cheeks burst into a blush, and he looks away because he really, really can’t tell Michael what he was just thinking. Luke falls into his line of vision as a consequence of attempting to avoid Michael’s gaze, and Ashton can’t really look at him right now either.  
  
“I know we don’t have a lot of boundaries already but this is … I mean, even for us, it’s …” Ashton doesn’t finish the sentence because his voice is shaking too much. Because the truth is, he’s not sure he’s ever been this turned on before. Ever, in his life. It’s too much, with all of them here, with Luke and Michael like a porno come to life except inexplicably hotter because Ashton knows them and loves them.  
  
Luke turns to him, opening his bleary eyes and frowning. “You know we don’t have to. No one will be mad if you wanna back out.”


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time since this all stared, Ashton actually thinks about it. Luke is giving him an excuse to put an end to it all, and Ashton briefly considers taking it, because it’s different than what Calum said to him earlier. Calum said ‘ _you_  don’t have to’. Like Ashton was allowed to leave, to go back downstairs, while the rest of them carried on. And Calum meant well, but what Luke just said is ‘ _we_  don’t have to’, and there’s a world of difference between those two things. Luke’s saying if Ashton wants, they’ll  _all_  stop. Somehow the all-for-one archetype Luke’s proposing makes Ashton realize he  _does_  want this. He wants it, with his friends, with his band. It’s twisted, probably, but he wants this to be something they’ve shared.  
  
“I … no, I don’t,” he says, honestly.  
  
Michael grins at him, pleased almost in a mocking way.  
  
“Shut up, Michael,” Ashton mumbles, instantly blushing again.  
  
“I didn’t say anything!”  
  
“You’ve got that stupid, smug look on your face.”  
  
Michael opens his mouth to argue, but Luke smacks him lightly on the arm. “Hey. Be nice. He’s never done this before.”  
  
Ashton takes  _slight_  exception to that, because he’s certainly had sex before, but probably what Luke means is that there’s never been more than one dick in the room before, and now there’s four, and that’s a lot of dicks all at once. It’s a substantial leap for a first time, when Ashton’s only used to his own.  
  
A hand touches his shoulder, and it’s Luke again. All three of them are watching him; Michael from where he’s crouched between Luke’s legs and Calum from over Luke’s shoulder, on the other side of the bed. Ashton focuses on Luke, because three pairs of eyes is too many.  
  
“Ash.” Luke’s eyes are wide and blue and he looks concerned, and sincere. “It’s up to you, okay? We can stop. We will, if you want.”  
  
Ashton leans forward suddenly and kisses Luke. He wasn’t planning on it. He doesn’t even know where the urge came from, but he goes with it because throwing caution to the wind is sort of the spirit of the thing and Ashton’s fully on board now. It isn’t as different to kissing a girl as he would have imagined. There’s the slight, barely-there prickle of stubble on Luke’s chin, but his lips are soft and warm and he tastes good. Like clean skin. Ashton brings a hand up to cup Luke’s cheek, angles his head so he can deepen the kiss and slip his tongue into Luke’s mouth, tasting him, exploring. It’s just dangerous enough to have Ashton’s head spinning, the side of him that’s just a bit adventurous enjoying the rush of adrenaline.  
  
Everything slows down for a moment and Ashton forgets the existence of everything that isn’t Luke’s lips against his, Luke’s tongue, Luke’s long fingers splayed over the middle of Ashton’s chest. And then, all at once, it speeds up again as a hand smacks the side of Ashton’s head and Michael’s voice says, “Hey!”  
  
Ashton lets his lips fall away from Luke’s, breath coming in quick pants, lungs desperate for oxygen. Slowly, he looks up at Michael, who’s staring down at them with raised eyebrows.  
  
“Um?” Michael asks, as if it was a full sentence, but somehow Ashton knows exactly what he means.  
  
He’s half a second away from apologizing and feeling terrible because even though they’re all in bed together right now Luke is still Michael’s, and Ashton didn’t really have the right to infringe on that. But then Luke answers for both of them.  
  
“Shut up, Michael,” he says, echoing Ashton’s earlier words, and pulls Ashton back in for another blisteringly hot kiss.  
  
Michael grumbles something that Ashton doesn’t hear over the blood rushing through his ears, and then he leans down again and does something that makes Luke gasp and whimper beautifully against Ashton’s lips. Luke’s face sort of moves in slow motion away from Ashton’s, turned back up to face the ceiling, as he arches up into whatever Michael’s doing and moans with his eyes closed.  
  
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” Michael mutters, and Ashton lifts his head up enough to watch as Michael parts his lips and slides Luke’s cock into his mouth, his hand moving below, fingers working back inside Luke.  
  
Luke touches Ashton’s arm again without looking at him, like he’s trying to wordlessly assure Ashton that everything is okay. It’s so completely opposite to the way it usually works between them. It’s usually Ashton being assuring, protective; Luke perpetually like his little brother, and fuck, Ashton thinks of him as a little  _brother_  except now he probably can’t anymore and he really, really needs to abort this train of thought before it goes an inch further. It’s sort of hot and disturbing at the same to remember the sweet little boy Luke was when Ashton met him, while he’s currently with three fingers in his ass and a mouth on his cock.  
  
Ashton makes himself focus on that part instead, because fuck, Michael is hot like this. His mouth is so pretty, lips stained red and stretched wide around Luke’s flushed, dark erection – eyes closed like he’s enjoying it. He probably is. He probably _likes_  sucking Luke off, and Ashton’s never wanted to suck a cock before but looking at Luke, he kind of sort of maybe can see the appeal. Luke is kind of breathtaking like this, his cheeks pink and his eyes closed, lips parted on silent moans. His cock is pretty too, honestly, long and slender, hard covered in soft-looking skin, sort of a mirror of the rest of Luke, and it doesn’t look like it would taste as bad as he’s always imagined a dick does.  
  
Michael pulls off Luke suddenly and looks at Ashton, letting out a surprised laugh. “You do?”  
  
Ashton stares at him, confused. “What?” He looks over; Luke and Calum are looking at him too. “ _What_?”  
  
“You just said you wanna suck Luke’s dick,” Michael tells him.  
  
Ashton feels all the blood drain out of his face. “I did?”  
  
Michael just stares back, expression way too fucking smug again.  
  
“I kinda do too,” Calum says covertly. “It’s fucking hot, watching.”  
  
Michael looks entirely too pleased with himself, but seems satisfied enough and goes back to his task. Ashton is momentarily mortified, until he catches Calum’s eye over top of Luke, and Calum winks at him. Ashton mouths  _thank you_ , understanding Calum said what he did to take the heat off Ashton, even if he probably also meant it. He’s always had an ally in Calum. Even before Luke and Michael were together they were already each other’s best friends. Michael has trouble paying attention to people who aren’t Luke; he has since the day Ashton met him. Sometimes Ashton imagines the evolution of their relationship in terms of Michael being insistent and Luke being worn down. Then other times, he sees the way Luke looks at Michael – the way he’s looking at him now – the way he trails around after Michael like an overgrown, lovesick puppy, and Ashton wonders if maybe it was the other way around. Maybe Luke’s the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Or maybe they were just made for each other.  
  
“That’s good,” Luke says, reaching down and pushing gently at Michael’s shoulder. “It’s enough.”  
  
“Okay,” Michael answers, but then doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking his fingers into Luke, laving his tongue up and down the underside of Luke’s erection. Ashton swallows thickly and watches intently, his eyes following Michael’s tongue. Porn is never, ever going to be good enough for him anymore. Not after this.  
  
“Michael,” Luke whispers, shoving at him a little harder. “Stop. You gotta …”  
  
He doesn’t finish the thought, but Michael hears the words Luke doesn’t say. He does stop. He pulls his fingers out gently, kissing Luke’s hip in a way that’s simple but loving at the same time. Michael sits up and surveys the three of them, lying shoulder to shoulder on the bed, his boyfriend in the middle, with a funny look on his face like he’s just now realizing how strange the situation is. Ashton looks away because if he goes back to that sort of thinking, he’ll chicken out and change his mind about this, and he doesn’t want to do that. Now that he’s committed he wants this so much it’s hard to see straight anymore. The thing Luke said the other day, about it being better with someone you care about – he was right. Ashton isn’t _in_  love with his band, at least not in the Valentine’s Day kind of way, but he loves them to death in every other way and that makes this so much hotter.  
  
Michael gets up, and Ashton puts a hand over his eyes and slowly strokes himself with the other hand, not wanting to watch Michael walk around the room fully naked. In spite of his newfound  _Eye Of The Tiger_  attitude about this, it’s still too embarrassing to look at Michael while he’s extracted from the forgiving nature of their pile of naked limbs. There are soft noises to his left that sound like maybe Luke and Calum are kissing now – touching each other probably, too. Ashton concentrates for a moment on the feel of his own fingers wrapped around his hard cock, the little twinges of pleasure it sends along the pathways of his veins. The mattress jostles as Michael gets back on it, between Luke’s legs again, and Ashton doesn’t open his eyes for another minute or two. When he does, it’s just in time to see Michael propping himself up on one hand over Luke, reaching between his legs with the other, lining himself up and pushing into Luke’s body.  
  
Ashton nearly swallows his own tongue. He knew that was coming, he just wasn’t at all prepared for it.  
  
Luke makes a small, strained noise, and Ashton’s heart beats so fast it makes him feel sick – equal parts aroused and terrified. This is so brand new to him, exciting and scary. Michael gets down to his elbows so he’s right on top of Luke and kisses him through it, working himself into Luke with slow, shallow thrusts. Luke wraps one arm around Michael’s neck and cups his cheek with the other hand, and Michael slides their mouths together, slow and sweet, almost innocent brushes of his lips against Luke’s.  
  
Out of nowhere, it’s like there’s an invisible bubble surrounding them that Ashton can see through but can’t breach. Like a force-field. It’s like nothing exists anymore except Luke and Michael, holding onto each other, whispering things so softly Ashton can’t make out words even though he’s only six inches from them.  
  
He can’t breathe. He’s completely mesmerized by them. He can’t look away, can’t think about anything else. They’re so connected, off in their own little world all of a sudden even though he and Calum are still right there. The way Luke’s fingers brush over Michael’s cheekbone, the way Michael is so careful with him, so gentle, like he’ll die if he hurts Luke even slightly – Ashton’s not sure he’s ever seen love like this before outside of a movie.  _Inside_ of a movie, even. Love in the movies is all hearts and flowers and greeting cards, sticky sweetness and sugary clichés. It always feels unattainable because it’s too perfect to exist in an imperfect reality. Luke and Michael are  _real_.  
  
“Oh my God,” Calum breathes, echoing exactly what’s spinning through Ashton’s brain.  
  
“What?” Michael asks softly, not turning his attention away from Luke for a moment.  
  
“Nothing,” Calum mumbles, sounding embarrassed, but Ashton knows. Ashton gets it. He might need to talk about this with Calum later, when they’re alone. He’s not sure he can even process it on his own, and he wants to remember every second.  
  
Luke lets out a breath, shaky and unsteady, and a small, quiet laugh along with it. He sounds overwhelmed, and happy.  
.  
“You okay?” Michael asks, unnecessarily.  
  
Luke smiles up at him. “What do you think?”  
  
Michael smiles back, pressing their lips together again. Luke holds Michael’s face in both his hands, biting briefly at Michael’s lower lip.  
  
“Fuck me,” he murmurs.  
  
“I’m gonna,” Michael answers, somehow a cocky promise and sweet reassurance at the same time.  
  
Ashton still finds himself so intrigued by Michael, even after all these years. He always has been; more than with the rest of them. Luke and Calum he’s been able to figure out. He knows them – can put a finger on their personalities, predict more or less what they’re going to do and say, how they’ll react to a situation. Michael is different. He’s such an amalgam of so many different things at the same time, personality traits that shouldn’t logically be able to coexist but somehow do within him. Hard and soft, loud and quiet. He’s the most punk of all of them, with his hair and his fuck-you attitude and his rebellious spirit, and yet inexplicably at the same time he’s also the one who gets excited over silly things; the sweetest with the fans. He’s as likely to be rude and obnoxious as he is polite and gracious. He has such a chip on his shoulder sometimes, and then other times is the kindest of all of them.  
  
Watching him these last few months with Luke, Ashton just feels even more unable to pinpoint exactly who Michael is or what he’s thinking or what he might do next. He watches them a lot, because he’s interested in people, and Michael is so damn coupley with Luke it’s almost disconcerting because Ashton never would have expected it of him. He’s protective of Luke; he takes care of him in a way Ashton didn’t see coming. Michael looks at Luke like he’s in awe of him – like some days he can’t quite believe Luke is real.  
  
 Ashton loves him, but doesn’t quite understand him yet. Maybe he never really will.  
  
“I sorta feel like I’m fucking all of you,” Michael laughs, as he rocks his hips into Luke’s.  
  
“Intimidated?” Calum asks.  
  
“A little bit.”  
  
“What does it feel like?” Ashton asks Luke.  
  
“Good. Really full,” Luke answers breathlessly.  
  
Ashton’s stomach flips and he squeezes his cock a little harder. He keeps forgetting about himself; too distracted by everything else.  
  
“Watch this,” Michael says, shifting a little and changing the angle and snapping his hips into Luke’s. Luke cries out, arching his back up and then falling back down into the pillows.  
  
“Again,” he mumbles, and Michael indulges him. “ _Fuck_.”  
  
“Can I touch him?” Ashton asks, referring to Luke and talking to Michael.  
  
“He doesn’t own me,” Luke says, trying to pout.  
  
“Yes I do,” Michael argues, bossy as usual. He winks at Ashton. “Go for it.”  
  
“Can you come without? Just on his dick?” Calum asks, sounding fascinated, like Luke and Michael are a documentary on jellyfish he’s watching or something instead of his friends having sex right in front of him. Gay sex, at that. For some reason Ashton’s brain keeps fixating on that. As if this would be less weird if Luke were female. It doesn’t make sense, rationally, but he can’t move past it.  
  
“Yeah.” Luke groans quietly as Michael pulls himself almost all the way out and then slams back in. Sweat has his pieces of his bright red hair sticking to his forehead, and yeah, he’s hot too. They all are. The idea of Luke coming untouched, just on Michael moving inside him, is so arousing Ashton doesn't have the emotional tools necessary to process it.  
  
Ashton bites his lip and hesitates, not completely sure what he wants anymore, but it’s all so close and everyone is naked and making sexy noises and Ashton is so caught up in it. He reaches between Luke and Michael, sliding his fingers experimentally up the underside of Luke’s erection. It’s burning hot when Ashton wraps his fist around it, stroking slowly to learn the feel. It’s different from his own, but not that much. He lets his hand travel lower, between Luke’s legs, his fingertips bumping into Michael’s cock, feeling where he’s pushing into Luke’s body.  
  
“Ash,” Luke moans. Ashton’s vision blurs around the edges for a moment. No one has ever said his name quite like that before.  
  
Michael slows his thrusts down to shallow rocks, indulging Ashton’s curiosity, but he still grumps at Luke, “You’re supposed to be moaning  _my_  name.”  
  
“ _Michael_ ,” Luke moans exaggeratedly, making a show of it.  
  
“Dick,” Michael grumbles.  
  
Calum laughs. “You asked for that, dude.”  
  
Ashton can’t laugh. He doesn’t know how anyone can laugh. This all feels so serious to him – so hot he’s turned on more than he’s maybe ever been, but still serious. There are lines being crossed right now. There’s no turning back after this.  
  
He trails his fingers back up and wraps them around Luke’s cock again, stroking more confidently and earning a stuttered sigh from Luke for his efforts, and Luke’s hand groping for Ashton’s arm again. Luke likes to touch, Ashton’s figuring out, and he’s more than okay with it. He finds Luke’s hand with his free one and threads their fingers together, bringing them both up to his mouth so he can kiss Luke’s knuckles.  
  
Michael stops moving just long enough to walk a few inches forward on his hands so he can bend down to kiss Luke again without losing his balance and falling on top of him. Luke kisses him back eagerly and lifts his legs to wrap them around Michael’s waist. Ashton always likes when girls do that, and Luke has legs for miles and Michael suddenly looks tiny encased in them.  
  
“I … um.” Calum’s voice is low, strained.  
  
Michael stops kissing Luke and turns his head. “Gonna come, Cal?”  
  
“Yeah,” Calum answers. “Sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be sorry,” Michael says. “That’s the point.”  
  
Ashton can’t really see him but he can hear, the way Calum’s breathing goes ragged and the sound of his hand speeding up on his cock. Michael reaches over and does something, touches him somehow, and Calum moans a little. They’re both watching him, Michael and Luke, and Ashton wonders if that’s nerve-wracking or hot, in the dangerous kind of way. He strokes his own cock slowly, closing his eyes because he can’t see anyway, and just listens. His stomach lurches when Calum grunts, fresh arousal flowing through him when he was set to burst already.  
  
“Fuck,” Luke breathes. “You’re so hot, Calum.”  
  
“Hotter than me?” Michael asks, pretending to be jealous.  
  
“How I am supposed to answer that, you’re both right here.”  
  
Michael winks at him. Then he turns his eyes to Ashton – he’s become the ring-master of this thing and Ashton isn’t sure how that happened. “Your turn?”  
  
Ashton swallows and thinks about it for a second. “Can, um. Luke be first?” He feels bad, because he’s sort of been fixated on Luke tonight, and he’s worried Michael’s going to get the wrong idea. He also feels like he got dragged into this by the other three, so if he’s found a way to enjoy it maybe Michael doesn’t get to have a problem with that.  
  
Michael raises an eyebrow, but like he’s intrigued, not angry.  
  
Ashton takes a shaky breath and tries to be brave about it, tries to say what he’s thinking. “I wanna see it. Wanna see him come.”  
  
Michael smiles a little, seductively, like the idea pleases him above  _and_  below the waist. “What d’you think, babe?” he asks Luke. “Want them to help me finish you off?”  
  
“Yeah,” Luke rasps.  
  
“Hold off for a bit, kay?” Michael says, to no one in particular, but then Ashton figures out Michael’s addressing him and Calum – wanting them to let him get the process started before they join in. Because Michael’s expecting them to  _join in_ , to _literally_  help him make Luke come and Ashton might be developing an ulcer, or a complex.  
  
Michael sinks to his elbows again, starting with slow rolls of his hips. Like there’s an order of events, steps that need to be followed, and Ashton realizes there probably  _are_. Michael’s done this so many times he knows exactly how to go about it, what to do when and how and what comes next, a step-by-step on how to make Luke lose it like he’s following a manual. In a way, it’s oddly romantic. He kisses Luke sweetly, their noses bumping together and the wet flash of a tongue catching Ashton’s eye as he watches – breathless. Michael pushes up to his hands after a while, scooping one under Luke’s lower back and pulling him down. He tilts Luke’s hips up so he can thrust harder. The new angle has Luke gasping as Michael hits the spot inside him Ashton’s only ever read about in his rare moments of curiosity followed quickly by the shameful deletion of his browser history. Now, Ashton wishes he’d been brave enough to try this. If it feels as good as it looks like it does, Ashton’s been missing out.  
  
“Touch him,” Michael says from between clenched teeth, panting with the effort of fucking Luke harder, faster.  
  
Ashton doesn’t know if Michael’s talking to him or Calum but he doesn’t wait to find out. He shoves a hand between Luke and Michael, finding Luke’s scorching hot erection and stroking it. He’s bad at it, probably, shaky and uncoordinated because he’s turned on and overwhelmed, but Luke isn’t complaining. Calum’s hand joins Ashton’s after a moment, just touching – Luke’s stomach, his hip, any bit of skin he can get to.  
  
“Guys,” Luke mumbles, warning.  
  
“C’mon, baby,” Michael urges, sexy and sweet.  
  
He pushes inside and then stays there, and Luke cries out and arches up and explodes, spilling over Ashton’s fingers, moaning on every other breath and his dick pulses in Ashton’s hand. Ashton hears himself whimper pitifully, turning his face into the pillow because he can’t look at it, it’s too hot, it’s like watching an eclipse. Ashton wants to see but he’s worried it will burn his eyes out of their sockets.  
  
The second Luke collapses back onto the mattress, boneless, Ashton lets go of him and brings his come-sticky hand back to himself, wrapping it around his own cock and stripping it quickly, losing himself in the pleasure of it, hips rocking, fucking into his own fist. A moan rips its way out of his throat when he comes all over Luke’s side, just as Michael grunts and tenses and shivers and fills Luke up. Ashton pants, face still pressed into the pillow under his head, his body rolling as he rides out the fluttery throbs of what’s definitely the best orgasm he’s ever had – the fact that it was with his band and not a girl probably saying all kinds of things about him that Ashton isn’t in the right space to bother considering.  
  
Michael falls down into Luke with a soft grunt, his hips slowing as his orgasm rides itself out too. Ashton still can’t quite breathe properly. He might never breathe properly again. It’s entirely possible his lungs are just a part of his body that doesn’t work anymore. He’s vaguely aware of Calum sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, turning away from them, and then standing up. Michael flops to one side, occupying the space Calum just vacated, and Luke chases after him with grabby hands and soft, childlike whines.  
  
“Mikey,” he whispers, sounding so painfully, heartbreakingly vulnerable now that the sex is over – needy, desperate for the comfort Michael’s arms offer.  
  
Ashton doesn’t blame him. Yeah, he just jerked off onto Luke’s hip, tugged Luke off, but it’s not quite the same. Luke just got fucked in front of his three best friends, his whole band. Ashton would be falling apart completely. In the moment, sure, it was okay. Maybe. But now that it’s over, if Ashton was Luke, he’d probably be crying. Not necessarily because they did anything wrong, but just at how overwhelming it must be, to be that exposed.  
  
“Shh, it’s okay, Lukey. I got you, I’m right here,” Michael whispers back, pulling Luke into his arms, letting Luke hide against his neck – and there’s that sweetness again, that soft, compassionate side of Michael that most people don’t get to see. He holds Luke gently but firmly, as if he’s daring the world to try to mess with Luke right now and see what happens, and Luke snuggles against him and relaxes just a little. Michael means  _safety_  to Luke, and Ashton has never been more aware of that than he is right now.  
  
“I … there’s so much jizz on me,” Luke says, with an embarrassed laugh.  
  
“So sexy, babe,” Michael tells him. Secretly, Ashton agrees.  
  
He rolls onto his back and tosses an arm over his closed eyes and just lies there. The others move after a while – some of them get off the bed and some don’t, and then people come back and the mattress jostles and Ashton doesn’t move or watch whatever’s happening. Someone sits next to his right arm, the spot that had previously been empty. Whoever it is nudges Ashton a little further into the center of the bed, and Ashton shifts over without speaking. He’s suddenly very aware of how naked he is, and is grateful when blankets are dragged up over his body.  
  
“Kiss me,” Luke’s voice asks softly, from somewhere to Ashton’s left, and then the soft sound of lips meeting says the request has been granted.  
  
Ashton lifts his arms finally to look – Michael and Luke are wrapped up together to one side of where Ashton’s lying, kissing slowly, and Calum’s head is next to Ashton’s on the pillow, on his other side. Calum is watching him apprehensively, like he’s worried Ashton’s about to freak out.  
  
“You good?” he asks, uncertainly.  
  
Ashton nods and tries to make his smile convincing. He isn’t  _not_  good. He’s just a little dazed.  
  
“Fun, right?” Michael asks Luke – it’s a serious question, he’s trying to gauge if Luke regrets it.  
  
God, Ashton hopes he doesn’t. He doesn’t want any of them to regret it.  
  
“Yeah,” Luke answers – Ashton breathes a tiny sigh of relief. “Felt … um. Good. You, and Ash’s hand, and Cal.  _Really_ good.”  
  
“Shit,” Calum mumbles. “Okay, we have to sleep now.”  
  
Ashton agrees with him. Talking about what they just did is the last thing in the world he wants to do right now, even if Luke’s words are kind of turning him on again. Maybe  _because_  Luke’s words are kind of turning him on again. He rolls over onto his side, facing Calum, so his back is against Luke’s.  
  
Right before he closes his eyes, Ashton catches the barely-there sound of Luke’s soft, scratchy voice, half-singing-half-whispering lyrics from  _Disconnected_  to Michael.  
  
“I admit I’m a bit of a fool for playing by their rules, but I find my sweet escape when I’m alone with you.”  
  
“Dork,” Michael says fondly. To Ashton’s ears, it sounds exactly like  _I love you._  
  
He drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.  
  
*           *           *  
  
Ashton wakes up slowly, and blinks into the darkness. He’s still between Calum and Luke where he’d fallen asleep, squished into a spot that should be too small for his body. Calum is plastered to Ashton’s right side, and Luke’s back is against his left. It’s hot and sticky and kind of comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Ashton isn’t used to sleeping with other bodies. He’s  _done_  it, with girls and with members of his band when they’ve had to share hotel rooms, but it doesn’t happen to him on the regular so it feels unusual. Not bad, necessarily, just different.  
  
What they did just hours ago comes back to him fluidly, a mellow stream of consciousness, and Ashton is surprised not to be upset about it now that the buzz of alcohol has worn off completely. The knowledge that Ashton can now say he’s participated in what was very definitely gay sex doesn’t feel like he would have guessed. He’s strangely alright with it.  
  
His bladder is full, though, so Ashton attempts to untangle himself from his band-mates. In a feat that feels impressively gymnastic, he gets out of the bed without knocking anyone to the floor. He wanders to the bathroom, pees, and then glances briefly at himself in the mirror. His eyes are a little puffy and his hair is a mess, but other than that, he doesn’t look any different. He still looks like the same old Ashton. It’s oddly comforting.  
  
When Ashton goes back to Luke’s room, he’s met with the shine of Michael’s open eyes.  
  
“Hey,” Michael whispers, not moving so he doesn’t disturb his armful of sleeping Luke.  
  
“Hi,” Ashton whispers back. He’s glad it’s dark because he’s still naked – they all are, but he’s the only one out from under the blankets. Although, really, he supposes what little modestly they had left at this point is long gone now anyway. “Why are you awake?”  
  
“Woke up when you left.”  
  
“Sorry. Had to pee.”  
  
Michael shakes his head a little. “It’s fine. Are you goin’ back to your bed?”  
  
Ashton presses his lips together and considers the question. He hadn’t thought of that. He was just on his way back here, planning on climbing back in between Calum and Luke. But he could go to his own bed. That would be the smart thing to do, probably. He’s just not entirely sure he wants to. He doesn’t understand what happened earlier, not completely, but they sort of shared something. Something that’s maybe significant. He wants to be back in the bed with the others. It felt safe there. That way, when he wakes up again in the morning, he won’t be alone. If they’re ashamed of what they did, if they’re all confused about it, or embarrassed, or all three – at least they’ll do it together.  
  
He makes the decision and gets back into the bed, crawling carefully over Calum and settling into the space he left five minutes ago. He lies on his back, and Calum snuffles and cuddles back into Ashton’s side without waking up. Ashton picks up Calum’s heavy arm and drags it to rest over his own stomach. He needs to feel connected.  
  
He lets his head fall sideways on the pillow towards Michael, making eye-contact with him in the dark. He manages a small smile, and Michael returns it. Ashton’s very aware of how weird everything should be, now that they’re sober. He’s looking at Michael, at a face he’s seen every day of his life for years now, but now he’s seen that face twisted in pleasure. He’s seen Michael naked and hard, heard him come, watched as he fucked the boy that’s sleeping between them right now. And Michael’s seen Ashton, too.  
  
It  _should_  be weird, it really should. But it kind of just … isn’t. It feels like he just knows Michael a little bit better now. Like maybe in the morning they’ll all be even closer to each other now, because this is something no one but the four of them will ever get to know about. It’s something they’ll have as a band that will be entirely theirs.  
  
Maybe there’s solidarity in shared secrets.   
  
“Are you ... um. Okay? With what happened?” Michael asks softly. He sounds like he really means it – like he wants Ashton to be honest, and then they’ll go from there. There are times when Ashton gets annoyed with Michael, and then there are times like now, when he regrets not knowing Michael for nearly the first two decades of his life. They all have flaws. Ashton doesn’t think anyone has ever cared about anything as much as Michael cares about their band.  
  
He nods. “Yeah. It feels okay. Doesn’t it?”  
  
“I think so.”  
  
Luke stirs a little but doesn’t fully wake up – he just shifts and wiggles in closer to Michael. Somehow his giant shoulders look small in Michael’s arms. Michael smiles down at him, his green eyes going glittery-soft and fond. He slides one hand slowly through Luke’s mussed up hair and kisses the top of his head with his eyes closed for a moment before opening them again and looking back at Ashton.  
  
His attachment, his obvious affection for Luke, is nothing short of breathtaking.  
  
“Wow,” Ashton breathes – unaware he’d even made a sound until his ears hear it.  
  
Michael cocks his head slightly to one side in question.  
  
“Sorry,” Ashton mumbles.  
  
“What?” Michael asks, curious.  
  
“You just … you’re like, really … in love with him.”  
  
“Shut up,” Michael says with an embarrassed laugh – his instinctive response – and then reconsiders and adds, “Did you not know that?”  
  
“I guess I did, I just … it’s different, actually  _seeing_ it.” Ashton feels a blush spread over his cheeks and he breaks his gaze and looks up at the ceiling. If he’s going to talk about this, he probably shouldn’t be looking at Michael while he does. “Earlier. You guys were like … it wasn’t just fucking.”  
  
“I sorta feel like you just insulted me,” Michael jokes, and Ashton smiles.  
  
“Nah. It’s a good thing. Took me by surprise a little, that’s all.”  
  
“It was hot, right? With all of us?” Michael’s voice is quiet, secretive, like he’s sharing something precious into the silence between them.  
  
“Yeah,” Ashton sighs, and then it’s his turn to laugh in embarrassment.  
  
“So, you don’t like guys now or something, right?” Michael asks – sounding genuinely curious; unjudging. It’s very  _Michael._  If Ashton said he was gay, Michael wouldn’t care for a second. He just wants to know, either way. “That was just, like, a weird band thing?”  
  
“No, I don’t,” Ashton answers honestly. “I don’t think so. It’s just like … we already share everything else anyway, so why not this too, you know? I don’t know. That sounds crazy, but I can’t explain it.”  
  
“You don’t have to. I know what you mean.”  
  
“Luke was hot. I mean, everyone was. But Luke was really … sorry. I probably shouldn’t say that to you.”  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
“He’s still yours,” Ashton promises him, worried Michael’s going to get the wrong idea. Yeah, he’d be okay if they did this again. Every now and then, maybe. But it’s not like he wants them to be four-way boyfriends. At least not more than they already are, which, Ashton now realizes, is quite a lot, even before there was group sex involved.  
  
“I know.” Michael is quiet for a moment, and then he adds, “He kind of … um. Wants it, like, all the time. Makes it hard for me to think straight some days, knowing he’s gonna drag me in here the first second he can.”  
  
“Fuck,” Ashton moans, his dick stirring at the thought of Luke like that. How often Luke and Michael were going at it was annoying before. Now it’s so sexy it makes Ashton’s gut clench. He closes his eyes. “We gotta stop talking about this or I’m gonna need to go again.”  
  
Michael chuckles. “Sorry.”  
  
“Go t’sleep,” Calum slurs, the words an uncoordinated smear against Ashton’s collar bone.  
  
Ashton presses his lips together automatically like a little kid caught talking out of turn. “Sorry, Cal.”  
  
“Don’t be sorry. Be quiet.” Calum pushes his face into Ashton’s shoulder, his thick hair brushing under Ashton’s chin.  
  
Ashton looks at Michael again and shares a covert smile with him. Michael closes his eyes, then, and turns his face into Luke’s hair. He sighs and settles, with Luke snuggled in his arms. It makes Ashton smile more. He lets his eyes fall closed again and falls asleep enveloped in his best friends.  
  
*           *           *  
  
When Ashton wakes up again, Calum and Michael are gone, but Luke isn’t. Luke has his eyes open, his head propped up on one hand, looking down at Ashton from across the bed.  
  
“Are you watching me sleep?” Ashton groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “Creep.”  
  
Luke smiles shyly and ducks his head. “Sorry. I only woke up like two minutes ago, if that helps at all.”  
  
“Barely,” Ashton mutters. “Where are the others?”  
  
It’s unheard of for Michael to wake up before, well, anyone. Ashton has never met anyone who needs as much sleep as Michael does. It’s like he’s part sloth. Or part cat. Maybe the fans are on to something about him.  
  
“Downstairs, I guess.” Luke rests his head back on the pillow, folding his hands on his chest and fiddling with his own fingers. “We’re okay, right? With everything?”  
  
“You mean the orgy?” Ashton teases, laughing when Luke blushes.  
  
“That makes it sound gross.”  
  
“Whatever you wanna call it, then. But yeah, we’re great.” Ashton pats Luke on the arm, and then sits up. All in all, it’s probably better if they don’t talk about it too much. “C’mon. Let’s go make sure Michael wasn’t replaced by some kind of early-rising pod person in his sleep.”  
  
They get up and get dressed in silence, and then make their way downstairs. Calum is frying what smells like bacon on the stove, and Michael is sitting at the counter with a mug cupped between his hands, the long sleeves of his loose sweater pulled over his palms.  
  
“Morning,” Ashton says, to announce their presence.  
  
“Morning, sunshine.” Calum looks up at him, and then twists around to grin at Michael. “It didn’t work.”  
  
Luke steps past Ashton and makes a beeline for Michael like a lost child spotting his mum.  
  
“Hi babe.” Michael leaves his coffee cup on the counter and turns in the swiveling chair, and Luke pushes between Michael’s knees and folds himself into Michael’s arms. “A little happy to see me?”  
  
“I don’t like waking up without you,” Luke says, rubbing his face on Michael’s neck.  
  
Michael hugs him and kisses the side of his face, whispering something into his ear that Ashton can’t hear. Ashton is struck again with wondering how it’s possible Luke is the biggest one out of all of them, but somehow looks so small in Michael’s arms. Then another thought returns from the night before, the one about how in love they are.  
  
“What didn’t work?” he asks.  
  
“We were taking bets on if you’d both be better looking once you finally woke up,” Michael says, not letting go of Luke or opening his eyes.  
  
Calum adds, “Apparently beauty sleeps are a myth.”  
  
“Well that’s just rude,” Ashton grumbles, resisting an urge to flip them both off, even though Michael is paying him no attention.  
  
“Make it up to you with breakfast?” Calum proposes.  
  
Ashton pours himself coffee, watching Luke and Michael out of the corner of his eye. Luke’s forehead is resting against Michael’s now, Michael’s hands cupped around the back of Luke’s neck.  
  
“Love you,” Luke whispers, his lips catching and dragging against Michael’s.  
  
Calum rolls his eyes at Ashton. “It’s way too early for this.”  
  
“Yes it is,” Ashton agrees.  
  
“You don’t wanna be my boyfriend or something, now, right?” Calum asks, with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Ashton snorts a laugh. “No. Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”  
  
“Not particularly.”  
  
“Good. Hey, lovebirds,” he sends in Luke and Michael’s direction. “No making out at the table.”  
  
Luke presses another quick kiss to Michael’s lips, and then extracts himself from Michael’s arms. “Sorry.”  
  
“Good morning, Luke,” Calum says, obnoxiously loud on purpose to point out that Luke’s completely ignored him so far.  
  
Luke smiles. He goes around the counter to where Calum’s faced away from all of them, dragging a spatula through eggs in a frying pan, and wraps himself around Calum from behind. “Good morning, Calum.”  
  
“Ugh, get off, you smell like Michael,” Calum complains, but he laughs as he does it.  
  
“I smell fantastic!” Michael protests indignantly.  
  
Luke doesn’t let go, he just squeezes his arms tighter around Calum’s waist. Michael giggles and darts over to join them, pressing up behind Luke, and they both cling to Calum while he bitches at them and attempts to keep cooking anyway.  
  
Ashton sits down in the chair next to the one Michael just vacated, and swallows a mouthful of hot coffee, unable to keep the smile off his face. His friends are kind of morons. And he kind of loves them.

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/) (and tell me if you do so I know who you are!)


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